


Figuring It Out

by DistractedSiren



Series: Bylaude One-Shots [6]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Confessions, F/M, Realizations, have some fluff, i'm feeling soft today
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-29
Updated: 2019-10-29
Packaged: 2021-01-08 02:51:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21228575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DistractedSiren/pseuds/DistractedSiren





	Figuring It Out

Claude is in Derdriu, and in the middle of an argument with Count Gloucester, when he realizes he might be in danger of falling in love with Byleth.

The other Deer have joked and teased him about his imagined feelings for her for years, but he’d always shrugged or laughed it off. She was Teach. She was important to him, of course. They all were. He _believed_ in her. But he’d always told them very clearly that this doesn’t mean he’s in love with her.

Only she’s back at the monastery and all he can think about is the way she’ll smile when he returns: just a little one, but there will be an affectionate tilt to her head and her eyes will get warm as they greet each other. And if she had come to Derdriu with him, she certainly wouldn’t be standing here, listening to Lorenz’s father bitch about troops moving through his territory and eating up the food stores. By now, she either would have shut him down with a look or just walked away. The thought makes his lips twitch upward.

“Do you find this amusing, boy? Because it won’t be your tenants that starve once the soldiers have left—”

“We’ll be carrying our own rations, my lord,” Claude replies evenly, snapping back to attention. “Any theft will be punished. And if the food situation does become dire, I’ll order the storehouses to distribute the grain we’ve stockpiled over the past few years.”

And he can ship in food from Almyra, but he doesn’t mention that to Gloucester.

The Count has other concerns, though they’re ridiculous ones—more excuses to nag him than anything else—so Claude excuses himself and heads to his private chambers. Already, his mind is full of Byleth again.

He wishes she were here to discuss strategy with him. As they prepare to move their armies southwest, she could show the Alliance lords exactly how each battalion would be utlizied for their best chance at victory. She could freeze out any objection, a skill that was highly useful amongst the argumentative group.

And at night, he’d tell her all of his witty little observations about them, and her eyes would crinkle even as she chided him about making fun of their allies, and he wouldn’t feel as frustrated anymore.

Or he’d sneak her out so they could go siteseeing around the city, and they’d stop for fresh seafood in the quay. They’d browse the market and he’d show her the silk blankets and woven carpets that the Almyran merchants brought over to sell. He’d watch the way the expression in her eyes would change from curiosity to delight as she tried spiced chai. They’d spend a whole day hiding from their duties, running around the city like naughty children having an adventure.

He’s grinning at the mere thought of it, but as soon as he realizes it he groans and rubs a hand over his eyes.

“Dammit,” he mutters out loud, starting a page boy. The boy had been stoking the fire and making sure that all was present and correct before withdrawing to give His Grace some privacy, but Claude’s voice makes him jump and drop the poker.

“Sorry,” he tells the boy. “I’ll see to it. Go get something to eat and enjoy your evening.”

The page bows and disappears, and Claude wanders to the fire and plucks up the poker. When had this started? How long has he been slipping? A while, some instinct tells him, but how hasn’t he noticed before?

“You can’t fall in love now,” he tells himself as he looks at the flames. His heart, unsurprisingly, ignores him. Perhaps he’s more his mother’s son than he thought.

He replaces the poker and begins to pace the room. He’s much too restless to even attempt reading the reports that have been neatly stacked on his desk. Nor will he be able to write out any dispatches of his own. He considers writing to the Deer, but dismisses the idea just as quickly. He’s afraid to reveal himself if he does so now. Somehow, Hilda or Lysithea will be able to read between the lines. They’ll _know._

Of course, they’ll probably know the second he lands in Derdriu too. When had he become so easy to read?

He shoves his hair back, then rings the bell. A few moments later, the page reappears.

“I’m sorry, I know I just dismissed you for the night, but I need a favor…”

* * *

“Left?” Nardel barks, incredulous. “What do you mean, he left?”

The page boy keeps his eyes on the floor. “He instructed me to tell you he’s sorry, and good luck with the Roundtable. He said he has complete faith in you and that he’ll put in a good word with Lady Judith.”

“Oh, godsdammit…that kid is gonna owe me a lot more than a good word in a pretty lady’s ear. Just wait until I get my hands on him…”

* * *

Claude lands at Garreg Mach in the deep cold of predawn. There’s no hint of sunrise yet, but it isn’t far off. He’s exhausted from three days of hasty air travel, but he already feels better now that he’s back at the monastery. There will be hell to pay for this little stunt, but he doesn’t care at the moment.

He goes to his old room, the one he’d reclaimed when they’d begun reconstruction. He pushes open the door, hoping he can relax enough to catch an hour or two of sleep before everyone realizes he’s back—but the room isn’t empty.

Byleth is sitting on his bed, his blanket halfway wrapped around her. She must have been reading or maybe just lost in thought, because she jumps a mile when the door moves. For a moment, they stare at each other, and Claude’s heart is battering his chest wall like it wants to escape.

“You’re back,” she mumbles, just as he asks, “Why are you—?”

They both stop talking and stare again. He tries to grin but he feels so overwhelmed. He probably still looks like he’s tumbling over a ledge. That’s exactly how he feels.

“Oh, I got tired of arguing. Thought I’d be of more use here. I didn’t expect to see you until morning.”

Her cheeks are faintly pink. “You weren’t supposed to be back.” She won’t look at him as she murmurs, almost too fast for him to catch, “I missed you.”

His heart lurches to a halt and cracks a little. “Missed me?” he repeats. All of his growing hopes are in that question. The vulnerability of it makes him want to squirm, but then she looks at him and he falls still.

“Sometimes I come and sit in here while you’re away. I don’t touch anything…it's just that being around your things makes it feel like you’re…nearby, I guess.” She shrugs. “I’m still trying to figure that part out.”

She stands up and begins straightening out his blanket. He watches, struck by how pretty she is in just woolen pants and a simple shirt. Her hair is hiding her expression, but her ears are still pink. Before she can finish and leave, he catches her arm.

“I missed you too,” he tells her. Her eyes snap up to his. “_That’s_ why I left Derdriu early.”

“Oh. Oh, I…” Byleth blinks at him, clearly wanting to say something. Instead, all that comes out is another, “Oh.”

“Yeah,” he agrees with a slightly lopsided smile. “Oh.”

“Well, I’m…I’m glad you’re home. But I should probably get back to my own room now.”

_Home_. Yes, he supposes he _is_ home.

“I’m glad too, but…” he tugs her closer, “before you go…”

“Yes?” she asks, her voice pitched a little high. His other hand comes up to cup her face, and then he kisses her.

“There’s something I want to talk to you about, my friend,” he murmurs against her lips when they break for air.

“No,” she breathes, her teeth catching his bottom lip. “I mean, not now.”

He groans as their lips meet again, and her tongue soothes away the little nip and makes him shiver.

“I just need you to know,” he manages as he nudges her back toward the bed, “that I’m in love with you.”

She gives him a little push and his back hits the covers. She stares down at him as she processes his words, and then she smiles. Her head tilts, her eyes crinkle. His heart melts.

“I love you too,” she replies. He reaches up and yanks her down on top of him.

“In that case, my love…please don’t go,” he whispers in her ear, groaning as her hips roll against him. “Let me show you how I pictured our reunion…”

* * *

They tumble out of his room several hours later, hungry and looking a little exhausted. All of the Deer are waiting at the bottom of the stairs. They’re all grinning knowingly, and Hilda has a hand-decorated card that says, “Congratulations on figuring it out at last, you dummies.”

He wonders if they’ll ever stop getting teased. Then he grins fondly down at Byleth. He’s willing to endure a lifetime of it as long as she’s at his side.


End file.
